


The Power of Sexting

by piginawig



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Sexting, Very minor Richie/OFC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: Richie accidentally sends Eddie a shirtless picture. Things escalate from there.Or, Richie and Eddie play Gay Chicken: Sexting Edition.





	The Power of Sexting

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a thank you to everyone who follows me on tumblr at richiesrocket.tumblr.com in honor of hitting 2 thousand followers!
> 
> Not beta'd so let me know if you catch any mistakes!

It had started as a joke.

A kind of gay chicken, is how Richie had described it. He and Eddie had found it hilarious the first time, when Richie had sent the first picture and got a response he wasn’t expecting: _what the fuck?_

It was toward the end of their senior year of high school, and Eddie’s mother had only just deemed him mature enough to own a smart phone. With his for-emergencies-only flip phone discarded and a shiny iPhone in hand, Eddie had taken to constant iMessaging with his friends. It was rare that he wasn’t messaging with at least one of them.

Which is how it was so easy for Richie to accidentally send a photo to Eddie instead of his Tinder match. The photo was in his bathroom mirror, tight black jeans slung low on his hips and a ridiculous pout on his face. His shirt could be seen on the counter, and he was clearly flexing his almost non-existent biceps. He had taken six before the perfect one was chosen, and he attached it and sent it to a girl named Candace.

Almost immediately, he got a message from Eddie. Eyes widening, he realized he had sent the picture to Eddie, with whom he had just been having a conversation about DC versus Marvel.

E.K.: _what the fuck?_

R.T.: _fuck_

R.T.: _that was meant to go to someone else lol_

E.K.: _do you really do that stupid duck face when you send pictures???_

R.T.: _excuse u??? stupid DUJck face??? that is sexy picture Gold. like u don’t make faces when u send pics_

E.K.: _I don’t even send pics but I know mine would be better than that!_

R.T.: _pls, u could never_

Richie sent the picture to Candace as he awaited Eddie’s reply. When it came, he almost dropped his phone. Eddie stood in his bedroom in front of the mirror that hung on the back of his door. He was wearing sweat pants, his usual on the weekends, but he had a thumb hooked in the waistband so that the hem of his underwear could be seen. He wasn’t looking at the mirror, his eyes averted toward his phone and a small, coy smile on his face.

A few moments later, his phone buzzed in his hand, a small notification dropping from the top. Candace had sent an image. He found himself suddenly uninterested.

R.T.: _not bad for a beginner_

E.K.: _NOT BAD? that is so much better than yours_

R.T.: _shoulda taken ur undies off eds, woulda been a lot better_

E.K.: _oh shut the fuck up_

Their conversation drifted back to comics, but the image stuck in the back of Richie’s brain. Eventually, he saved it to his Dropbox and deleted it from his phone, not letting himself think too hard about why. Life had gone on, and neither boy brought it up again, until their third month living in New York City.

Richie had a small apartment and Eddie had spent the summer bunking with him, before finally moving out into his dorm at NYU in August. They were only about a ten-minute walk away from each other, but not seeing each other every day left Richie feeling a bit lost. He had made friends at the radio station he was interning at, and when they invited him out he agreed. He found himself drunk at one of his friend’s apartments, scrolling through his messages with Eddie. It was fucking stupid how much he missed him.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Bethany sat on the couch next to him, drink in her hand. She was another intern at the station and a few years older than him. She had long brown hair and big brown eyes, red lipstick on her lips. Richie greeted her, and she turned her body to face him, her arm on the back of the couch.

“You having fun?” Her voice was soft. She looked at him from beneath her lashes, and when he made eye contact the corners of her red lips turned up in a small smile. Richie was hit with how much that smile looked like Eddie’s in his stupid sexy picture. He pushed the image away, turning on the charm and scooting in closer to her.

They flirted for only about fifteen minutes before the small party ended, everyone being shooed out of the apartment and onto the street.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Richie asked, hand on the small of Bethany’s back.

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Not on the first night. Text me, though?”

“Yeah,” Richie agreed, before pulling her in for a kiss. As he walked back to his apartment, he wiped the red lipstick from his lips. He went straight to his room when he got home, pulling his shirt and jeans off and climbing into his bed. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed, and he grinned as he saw he had a text from Bethany. _Thinking about you._

He opened up the message and began to reply when his phone buzzed again, an image coming through. He sucked in a deep breath, palming himself through his boxer briefs. He was half-hard already, and he used his free hand to snap a photo.

He sent it without really looking at it. After it was sent he looked at it again. The picture of Eddie popped into his head again, and he closed his eyes, as though that would make the image go away.

Without thinking, he found his messages with Eddie. He was drunk. He could always blame it on how drunk he was.

R.T.: _hey do u remember when I acciedntaly sent u that pic_

While he was waiting for Eddie to read his message, he got a notification from Bethany. He ignored it.

E.K.: _u mean ur shitty duck face?_

R.T.: _u were right, urs was better_

R.T.: _but I just took one that beats it_

E.K.: _are you making the fucking duck face again?_

Biting his lip, he went back to the message with Bethany. Ignoring the picture she’d just sent, he saved the one he had sent and went back to Eddie’s name. His heart was racing as he sent it.

It took three minutes for Eddie to respond.

E.K.: _Richie why the fuck did you send me that_

R.T.: _what, r u afraid u can’t do better?_

E.K.: _are you fucking kidding me_

R.T.: _nope_

Richie watched as the chat bubble appeared, then disappeared twice.

R.T.: _unless u want me to be kidding in which case thi sis 100% a joke_

Richie’s messages were showing up as read, but the chat bubbles had yet to reappear. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for being so fucking stupid. What was he even doing? Was he trying to sext Eddie? It wasn’t like he hadn’t recognized he was attracted to him, but he was his best fucking friend.

Richie was just about to send an apology when his phone buzzed.

His breath hitched as he opened the photo. He recognized the sweatpants Eddie was wearing. They were the same ones he always wore when he was relaxing. But he had clearly taken Richie’s advice. Again, his fingers were tugging at the waistband, but this time Richie could see nothing but skin. He found himself reaching into his underwear and wrapping a hand around himself as he looked at the way Eddie’s sweatpants did nothing to hide the outline of his dick.

His release came quickly, and he panted as he grabbed a tissue from his nightstand to clean himself up. He picked his phone back up, feeling sleepy.

R.T.: _u win this round_

They didn’t talk about it. Richie had noticed Eddie’s cheeks were a little red when they saw each other a few days later, but they pushed past it, instead talking about Eddie’s first week of classes and Richie’s internship. Richie didn’t mention that Bethany, who he’d eventually texted in the morning that he’d fallen asleep, was refusing to speak to him and making his job much more difficult. He couldn’t find it in him to bring it up.

He also didn’t tell Eddie that he now had a folder in his Dropbox that contained two photos. He didn’t mention how many times he’d looked at those photos, trying desperately not to think too much about it. It was gay chicken. Eventually, Richie would send a picture that went too far, and Eddie would call him out for it. It would end, and they’d never talk about it again.

A few weeks later, Richie found himself in his apartment on a Thursday night, lying in bed in his underwear and watching Netflix. He knew Eddie was out with his friends from school, and he awaited the phone call he knew he’d get from a drunk Eddie once he’d returned to his dorm. It had started the first time Eddie went out with his new friends; once he’d gotten home he found himself wanting to share all the details of his night with Richie, so he’d called and giggled his way through a bar-by-bar recount of his night out.

He found himself surprised when he got a text instead of a phone call.

E.K.: _so I met this guy and we made out and I gave him my snap and he sent me a video_

E.K.: _am I supposed to send a video back? I didn’t even see most of it! I panicked and dropped my phone_

R.T.: _ur not required to do anything u don’t wanna do eds_

E.K.: _what if I want to_

Richie groaned, pushing his glasses up his forehead so he could rub his eyes. He didn’t want to know this. His stomach twisted in knots that he knew were jealously, and a wave of self-hatred and realization washed over him. He couldn’t avoid his feelings for his best friend anymore, not the way he had for the past few years.

R.T.: _what did u see in the video?_

E.K.: _he was … like.. masturbating_

R.T.: _u could just send him a pic_

Richie hated himself for how much he wished Eddie would just send a picture. Hated himself for how much he wanted to see whatever picture Eddie chose to send.

E.K.: _ok so like… I took a video. and I haven’t sent it yet but I saved it but idk if its good??? Ive never done this before and ive never seen what its supposed to really look like and idk help_

R.T.: _i rlly don’t know what ur asking me to do here eds_

E.K.: _will you watch it?_

Richie threw his phone down onto the bedspread. His heart was racing. He should say no. Eddie had been drinking and he’d regret this tomorrow. Richie should say no.

E.K.: _sorry. I’m so sorry Richie that’s so fucking stupid of me to ask, I’m sorry please don’t hate me_

Richie’s resolve crumbled as he read the text.

R.T.: _send it_

Richie waited with his heart in his throat, finding the television remote and turning it off. The room got darker and he turned his bedside lamp on, his mind already picturing what Eddie would look like. He started palming himself, worked up at just the thought of Eddie sending this video to him. When it came through, he huffed out a breath and opened it.

Eddie was in his own bed in his dorm, his jeans and underwear pushed down to his knees. The video started with his cock already in hand, slowly stroking. It was only a few seconds, and there was no volume. Richie felt hot all over as he replayed it.

R.T.: _its good but u need the volume on_

E.K.: _I try not to make noises, I don’t wanna sound like a porno_

R.T.: _u wont just be natural about it_

Richie watched the chat bubble appear and disappear. He groaned, squeezing the base of his dick as the video played in his head. He watched it again, arousal hot in his gut. He didn’t notice when Eddie began typing again.

E.K.: _can you show me_

E.K.: _it’ll be like another competition_

Richie pulled off his underwear without even thinking about it, taking himself in his hand before he opened his camera. He stroked himself a few times before hitting record, making sure everything was in the shot. His breathing was already heavy, and he twisted his wrist in a way he knew would pull a moan from his throat. After about fifteen seconds he stopped recording, pulling his hand away from his dick.

Eddie hadn’t said anything else, so Richie just attached the video and hit send, tossing the phone to the side and doing what he could to keep from grabbing his dick again. Six agonizing minutes passed before he got a response.

E.K.: _is this better?_

There was another video. When he pressed play, he immediately heard the sound of Eddie’s panting, and he quickly squeezed the base of his cock to keep from coming.

It was the same angle as before, but this time Eddie’s fist was moving much faster, and quiet _uh uh uh_ sounds were coming from the speaker. Richie moaned as Eddie whimpered a quiet, “ _fuck, fuck, fuck_ ,” and then he was coming on screen, spilling onto his hand and stomach.

Just as the video ended another text came through.

E.K.: _by the way, that wins the competition, right?_

Without thinking, Richie opened his camera and pressed record. He lasted eight seconds before he was coming, loud groans escaping his lips as he bit back Eddie’s name. He used his thumb to switch to the front facing camera, and after he made sure his face was in the frame, brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the come off his fingers and palms, eyes never leaving the camera.

It was bold. He knew it was bold. But he could always come back later and say he was drunk, too. Besides, he had to do something to beat Eddie.

He sent the video, then got to cleaning himself up. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands and when he returned, he had one new text.

E.K.: _ok. you win._

R.T.: _goodnight eds_

E.K.: _goodnight, Richie_

The next time they saw each other was Saturday. They met at their normal lunch spot and tried to act normal, but Richie couldn’t get the videos out of his head. He knew his cheeks were red, but Eddie’s were, too. He knew he was pushing his regular boundaries for physical contact, ruffling Eddie’s hair and slinging an arm over his shoulder and letting their feet brush together under the table, but he couldn’t stop himself. Eddie didn’t complain, either, just smiled at the table and occasionally made his usual gripe of “ _personal space, Rich_.”

They were only five minutes from Richie’s apartment, only fifteen from Eddie’s dorm, so they walked slowly after lunch, chatting about their weeks.

Richie, for the first time in his life, found himself regretting his big mouth when he said, “so, are you going to see that guy again? The one from Thursday?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, and the pink returned to his cheeks. He looked away from Richie, biting his lip. Richie regretted saying anything, and opened his mouth to apologize, when Eddie answered.

“Probably not.”

Richie felt a tension he didn’t know he was holding bleed out of his body, and he grinned as they walked up to his apartment.

“Cool. Do you wanna come hang out? They just added Princess Diaries on Netflix.”

“The original?” Eddie looked excited, and Richie chuckled and nodded. Even though he’d said it a million times, Eddie told him, “ugh. The fuckin’ sequel. She should’ve ended up with Michael.”

“I know, babe,” he said. Eddie’s sudden angry passion seemed to disappear at the pet name, and Richie felt like he was suddenly going to puke. But Eddie just smiled sadly.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna head home. I’ve got some homework to get done.”

Richie frowned. “You sure? I could go with you, then? I promise not to disturb you.”

Eddie bit his lip, looking at the ground. He seemed to be debating it in his head. Finally, he met Richie’s eyes. “No, that’s okay. I’ll call you tonight though, okay?”

Richie felt like the breath had been punched out of him, but he nodded. He watched as Eddie began walking away, before turning and going into his apartment building. He went to his bed and threw himself on it, rubbing his temples. He’d fucked everything up. Things with Eddie had never been weird. Eddie never turned down an opportunity to watch Netflix and do nothing all day.

He lay in silence for a few minutes before he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

E.K.: _I lied_

E.K.: _on Thursday. I lied about the guy_

E.K.: _I mean, there was a guy that I made out with but he didn’t send me a video_

E.K.: _fuck this is so stupid_

Richie read each message as it appeared, heart in his throat. He wanted to respond but his hands were shaking too badly.

E.K.: _I shouldn’t have done it but I just wanted_

E.K.: _fuck_

E.K.: _I wanted you_

E.K.: _I couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures you sent_

Richie finally gained control of his hands and typed a response.

R.T.: _where r u_

He held his breath as he watched the chat bubble appear.

E.K.: _outside your door_

He threw his phone on the bed and jumped up, his legs carrying him quickly through his small apartment to the front door. He yanked it open to find Eddie standing there, cheeks red and lip between his teeth.

“Rich-“

Richie grabbed a handful of Eddie’s shirt and pulled him forward, their lips meeting in a clash of teeth. He sighed into Eddie’s mouth when he felt hands around his neck, and he walked them into the apartment, closing the door behind them without separating their lips.

Richie whimpered when Eddie’s hands found their way into his hair, pulling on the strands at the base of his neck.

“Always thought you’d like your hair pulled,” Eddie whispered, letting his lips fall to Richie’s neck. Richie just stood, hands roaming Eddie’s back, and let Eddie nip and lick at his throat. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored, and he couldn’t think. His mind was racing and all he could do was tug Eddie even closer, until the lengths of their bodies were pressed together.

“Do you wanna,” he panted, gasping when Eddie’s teeth closed around his earlobe. “Bed. Let’s – bed.”

Eddie pulled back and walked away, leaving Richie a desperate mess standing by the front door. He took a few deep breaths.

“Are you coming?”

Richie opened his eyes to see Eddie had taken his shoes off and crawled up onto his bed. He grinned, racing over to him. He jumped onto the bed, savoring the surprised giggle that escaped Eddie’s mouth. He pulled him down until their chests were touching, and Richie brushed a strand of hair off Eddie’s forehead.

“Can we talk really quick?”

Richie almost couldn’t believe he’d said it, but once Eddie pulled back with a nod, he found himself grateful.

“I can’t do this if it doesn’t mean anything,” he said quietly, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “I won’t fuck up our friendship like that.”

Before he responded, Eddie brought a hand up to Richie’s cheek, thumb brushing cheekbone and leaving Richie feeling warm.

“You’re my best friend, Rich,” Eddie whispered. Richie felt his heart fall at the words, and he nodded, closing his eyes. “Hey, look at me.”

Richie sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes. Eddie had moved closer, his thumb still moving softly against his cheek.

“You’re my best friend,” he repeated. “This means _everything_.”

Eddie’s hand slid from Richie’s cheek and into his hair, and before Richie could close his eyes again Eddie’s lips were on his. The kiss was softer this time, full of all the words they hadn’t yet said to each other.

Richie’s hands found Eddie’s hips, slipping beneath his shirt and feeling the soft skin. His hands roamed Eddie’s back and chest, before Eddie finally pulled back long enough to pull the shirt over his head. Richie followed suit, tugging his shirt off and tossing it to the side. He pulled Eddie into another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip until he opened for him, their tongues sliding together, hands exploring newly exposed skin. The room was quiet apart from their breath and the slick sound of lips and tongues.

They mapped each other out, learning each other in ways they’d never been able to before. They shed the rest of their clothes quickly, too desperate to do much more than kiss sloppily and grind together, before Richie reached between them and took them both into his hand. Eddie moaned, his head falling into the crook of Richie’s shoulder as the taller man stroked them both.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie muttered, gasping when Eddie’s fingers started tugging on his hair.

“Faster,” Eddie whispered against Richie’s skin. “ _Please_ , Rich.”

Richie moved his fist faster, feeling the tightening heat in his stomach.

“Kiss me,” Eddie said, lifting his head and meeting Richie’s eyes. His pupils were blown, cheeks pink and mouth red and wet. Richie didn’t need to be told twice; his lips found Eddie’s as he sped up his hand. After a few moments, Eddie whimpered against his lips and jolted, his body shaking for a moment before going still, quiet moans escaping his lips, and Richie followed quickly, working them both through it until Eddie shoved his hand away, letting his body fall to Richie’s side, head falling back into the crook of Richie’s neck.

They recovered slowly, their heavy breathing filling the room. Richie ran a finger up and down Eddie’s arm, and Eddie played with the sparse hairs on Richie’s chest. Richie felt himself dozing before Eddie finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I lied,” he said softly. It took Richie a moment to understand what he was talking about, but when he did, he laughed.

“I’m not,” he said honestly. He felt Eddie chuckle against him. “If you hadn’t, we probably would’ve taken like, six more months to get here.”

“Nah,” Eddie said, lifting his head to meet Richie’s eyes. “You would’ve done something eventually. You had the biggest boner for me.”

Richie’s jaw dropped in shock as Eddie broke into laughter.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe this,” Richie said, shaking his head. “And I was about to suggest we watch Princess Diaries –“

“No!” Eddie yelled, eyes widening. “I take it back, I take it back!”

They dissolved into laughter, leaning against each other and letting their limbs tangle.

“I did have a huge boner for you,” Richie admitted, once their giggles had quieted. “I ignored a girl’s tits because you sent a picture of your dick in your sweatpants.”

“Oh my God,” Eddie muttered, pinching his side. “Those pictures are so embarrassing.”

“Those pictures are sexy as _fuck_ , Eds,” Richie corrected. “I have ‘em saved on my Dropbox in a folder titled ‘Spank Bank’.”

“Oh my God,” Eddie repeated.

“You can’t be embarrassed by the pictures, you literally sent me a video of you jacking off.”

“Only because I wanted one of you! I couldn’t just _ask_!”

“What a story to tell the grandkids,” Richie said, ignoring Eddie’s groans. “Ah, yes, kiddos, your Grandpa Eddie and I got together through the power of sexting!”

“We’re never telling anyone about this, ever,” Eddie said. “We had a beautiful love confession with roses and candles after years of pining. That’s the official story.”

“Whatever you say, Eds,” Richie agreed with a grin, before whispering to himself, “ _the power of sexting._ ”

Eddie pinched him and then began to laugh. Richie leaned over until their lips were almost touching. Eddie’s laughter died off, and he brushed his nose against Richie’s.

“I’m really happy we’re doing this,” he whispered, pressing a feather-light kiss to Richie’s lips.

“Me, too,” Richie said, closing the distance between them.


End file.
